The Drop of an Apple
by mametsundere
Summary: When the young Prince of Spades accidentally drops an apple on a farm boy's head, the action sets off a rippling effect that eventually grow beyond the boundaries of friendship. Cardverse!USUK
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"…and still remains to be an important lifeline for the Four Kingdoms. In one instant, when the trading ports across the border of Spades…" The tutor trailed off, his face taking on an exasperated expression as he noticed that his young student was once again letting his attention drift away from the lesson. Sighing, he crossed his arms and called the boy out. "Your Highness, if you have the ability to doodle all over your paper, I'm sure you can put just as much detail and work into writing your notes."

The young Prince didn't even lift his head to reply and instead, continued to sketch away, his pencil working in a frantic motion. "But I already know all this stuff," he insisted.

"Really?" the tutor asked, unconvinced. "Then list the cities where the major trading ports are located in Spades."

The pencil stopped mid-stroke. Azure eyes lifted from the paper and sheepishly met the studying gaze of his tutor. "All of them?"

"Yes, all. You were assigned to memorize the names weeks ago, Your Highness." A smile tugged at the corner of the tutor's lips.

The boy pouted, not liking the smug tone in his tutor's voice. "I-I know that!" he blurted. His face scrunched up in concentration. "Um…I know for sure there's one in…or was it at…uh…or maybe it was…"

"Having trouble remembering, Your Highness?" the tutor mused, interrupting the boy's muttering.

"No!" the Prince exclaimed in panic. His cheeks were already tinged with pink from embarrassment. "I know them, but…I just…forgot that's all."

Seeing the Prince's distress, the tutor sighed with a small smile, putting his hands up as if surrendering. "Alright, I suppose that'll be enough history for now. I know the good weather isn't exactly helping, so I'll let you finish early today."

The boy's face lit up like sunshine. "Really?" he asked, already bouncing in his chair.

Nodding, the tutor said, "Yes, really. Now go before I change my mind."

The Prince didn't need to be told twice. Grinning, he shouted his thanks, grabbed his books, and sprinted out the study room towards his chambers with new-found energy. With enough force to break the door down, the Prince barged into his room, threw his books carelessly onto his desk, and hurriedly changed from his royal attire into the loose clothing of a regular farm boy. Washing his face of any lingering sweat at the basin, the boy wasted no time climbing down the ivy outside his room's balcony and running into the forest towards the fields bordering the Kingdom of Spades.

Running up and over familiar hills, dodging large tree roots, and avoiding slippery moss, the Prince rejoiced in his time of freedom as he sped through the ancient forest whooping and laughing ecstatically, loving the way his speed made the wind comb back his light honeycomb coloured hair.

It was summer in the Kingdom of Spades and with the sun high in the afternoon sky the last thing the young Prince wanted was to stay indoors studying. Summer meant everything was at its finest, be it the weather, mood…or even magic. Faeries could be sighted more often and weapons of new designs would be traded in and out of Spades. Duels between magicians would be preformed out in the public and enchanting displays of magic were sure to make this year's festivals another huge success. Just thinking about it made the Prince tense in excitement.

He breathed in the forest air, thick with heat yet fresh with dew, loving the earthy smell. The sun peeking through the leaves seemed to glitter as the Prince occasionally glanced up towards the sky while he ran. As the forest thinned out, the Prince stopped at a small river cutting through the greenery. The slow water current reflected the sunshine in fragments of light, shining with more brilliance than the royal jewels. Still panting from the run, the Prince carefully skipped over the path of rocks in the river to reach the other side, finally arriving at his destination.

There, in front of another thin layer of forest, was a grand apple tree stretching several meters tall. Its branches were flush with leaves and decorated with beautiful, rosy apples in their prime. Already feeling his mouth begin to water, the Prince wasted no time climbing the tree to hunt for the biggest, juiciest apple of them all. Although it was going to be quite the challenge considering the tree's gigantic size, the Prince knew his stomach wouldn't be complaining for long.

* * *

"Mom, I'm back!" the boy announced while closing the door behind him. The warm, toasty smell of baking bread filled the air and he breathed in deeply, relishing it.

Said mother poked her head out from the kitchen to welcome her young son home. "Finished with the harvest for the day?" she smiled, dabs of flour smeared on her face.

"Yes, Mom," he answered, laughing at the sight. Using his forefinger, he pointed to his own cheek in the same spot his mother had flour on.

Taking the hint, his mother laughed and rubbed it away with her apron. "Go wash up, honey. There's still plenty of time left before dinner so go play for a while…maybe with the other children?" she suggested helpfully.

She watched her son's face expression fall and the vivid green of his eyes darken before they moved to stare at the floor. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight around uncomfortably. His mother sighed in sympathy, recognizing the silent answer. She knew her son wasn't exactly the most social boy around and that he preferred reading a book by himself under the shade or spending a day playing beside the faerie folk, but she really did worry about his ability to make friends…or lack thereof. "Did you at least try?" she asked.

He replied after a long pause, still not looking up at his mother. "…They made fun of my eyebrows."

The mother was relieved her son couldn't see as she cupped a hand to her mouth to stifle her laugh. "Are you sure they weren't just teasing?"

"They've done it a lot of times before and were really mean about it," he huffed.

His mother walked towards him and gently lifted his head with her hands, forcing him to look into her eyes. "Are you going to let one shallow statement stop you from making friends?"

Her son pouted. "But what if I don't want to have friends? I don't need them if they're mean. I have the faeries to play with." However, his stubbornness shrunk away after seeing the stern look his mother was giving him.

Eventually letting out a soft chuckle, the mother used her thumbs to smooth over her son's eyebrows in a comforting way, a kind smile on her lips. "But I suppose you did the right thing. A true friend should never judge you by the way you look." Her son's face brightened at her praise and she planted a soft kiss on his forehead. "But keep trying, alright?"

"…I'll try," he murmured back.

"Good boy," the mother said, gently tapping her son's lightly freckled nose with a finger. Despite all the sun he gets and the large amount of time he spends outdoors, the only evidence is a barely visible pattern of freckles over his nose and cheeks. Somehow, he remained fair-skinned and untouched by the summer sun's powerful rays whereas the other children easily tanned. "Now go have fun and make sure to be back on time for dinner," she said, running her fingers through his hair. The colour used to be almost amber before the sun bleached it lighter. Now the shade reminded the mother of rolling wheat fields when they're basked in sunlight, similar to the ones just outside their house.

Giving his mother a grateful kiss on the cheek, he rushed back outside after a change of clothes, taking his notebook and pencil just in case he had the urge to distract himself from the thought of socializing. He ran down the dirt road with a burst of speed towards the forest up ahead, a giddy smile on his face put there by anticipation. He couldn't wait to spend the late afternoon sitting in the shade of his apple tree by the river, munching away at the ripe fruit hanging from its branches. Excitement fuelled his moving limbs despite being considerably tired from field work. He slowed his run to a walk as he approached the edge of the forest. He always loved this place for its peace and secrecy. It wasn't a far walk from the edge of the greenery to the tree, but a clueless passerby would have no idea that a river and a giant fruit tree – able to provide for many families – could be so close.

Without hesitation, he made his way into the forest, carefully stepping over roots and sharp rocks hidden away by dirt and fallen leaves. When the tree came into sight, he couldn't help but smile to himself. Closing the distance, he picked off an apple hanging off a low branch and settled down at the base of the giant tree, not hesitating to take a large bite of the fruit. Sighing contentedly, he leaned into the trunk and looked up past the line of trees, catching the Spade palace in his line of sight. The palace wasn't exactly hard to miss due to its sheer size. Although some may say the size was a little much, it certainly matched the power of the Kingdom of Spades.

As the ruling power of the Four Kingdoms, Spades had the upper hand in military, trade, and economy. It wasn't a surprise that the palace would flaunt all aspects with its high defence walls and overall regal look. The flag of the Kingdom of Spades flew high and proud on the highest point of the palace, its golden symbol shining in the center of the flag's royal purple background for all to see.

He finally closed his eyes, relaxing in the warmth of the summer breeze, listening to the birds sing and the leave stir. The running water of the stream was like a lullaby. Everything was perfect.

…

Everything was perfect, that is, until something hard dropped onto the top of his head. Letting out a yelp of pain, he instinctively brought his hands up to comfort the injury, dropping his apple in the process. Looking around for the source, his eyes eventually found it: a very large apple still in the midst of rolling away from him. Frowning in annoyance, he rubbed the sore spot on his head, trying not to cry out in pain. He glared at the apple, but decided that it was too immature to blame the innocent fruit. After all, it was perfectly natural and ordinary for a tree to drop its fruits.

On the other hand, nothing was natural or ordinary about a voice that suddenly called out from above him. "Hey, you okay?!" The voice belonged to a young boy and was slightly higher in pitch than the injured boy still nursing his head. Startled, he looked up and all over, trying to find the source of the voice. He wasn't hearing things, right? The apple didn't hit him _that_ hard.

"Over here!" the same voice called out. This time, a boy jumped down from the high branches right in front of the other, covered in leaves and smudged with dirt. "Are you okay?" he repeated.

Instinctively, the injured boy examined the newcomer in front of him. His face was flushed (probably from doing whatever he was doing up in the tree) and his hair was slightly damp with sweat. He was slightly shorter and despite the slight pudge on his cheeks he looked like any other healthy farm boy that spent his days in the fields. No longer in shock, the other fumed, "No, of course I'm not alright! You just dropped an apple on my head!" Taking a good look at the boy's face, he took notice that he had the most striking blue eyes he had ever seen.

At the moment, those blue eyes were widened in defence. "But I didn't mean to! Honest!"

"You could at least apologize," he argued.

But instead, the other boy pouted and frowned in confusion. "I don't have to say sorry if I didn't mean it," he protested.

Refusing to give in to the other boy's logic, he spat back somewhat weakly, "B-But you still did it! So…you have to apologize."

The other boy hummed, as if debating whether or not to surrender. But rather than saying anything, he turned away from the injured boy, picked up the fallen apple, and went back to him, holding it out. "How 'bout this? I'll share my apple with you instead of saying sorry since I didn't exactly do anything wrong," he offered with a wide grin.

The other huffed at the thought. "I already have my…own…" He trailed off when he noticed his half-eaten apple lying in the grass, its white flesh covered with dirt. He forgot that he had sacrificed his little treat in the sudden assault from above. Looking back at the boy still holding out his apple, the knowing grin still on his face, he sputtered another excuse. "I-I'll just get another apple from the tree."

"But I got the biggest apple of them all!" the other insisted, waving the fruit in front of the boy's face. "I bet it'll be the tastiest too," he said teasingly.

Feeling like the boy wasn't going to give up any time soon (and the giant apple in his hand _did _look rather tasty), the injured boy sighed and frowned, grabbing the apple from the other's hand. "Fine, but I get the first bite."

The blue-eyed boy grinned in victory and joined the other by sitting next to him. The two passed the apple back and forth, devouring it until only the core was left. Both boys were left feeling quite full and very satisfied. During the entire time, the strange boy who had dropped from the tree kept blabbering on about the nice weather or how good the apple tasted or the food he ate this morning or anything else that caught his attention.

When there was finally a small period of silence, the green-eyed boy coughed out awkwardly, "So…Who are you exactly?" Might as well get to the point, he thought. No use continuing to avoid it.

The other turned to look at him with a surprised look on his face, as if remembering that this was the first time they've met. "Oh, right! I forgot!" he said, a new smile stretching across his face. "The name's Alfred!" He stuck out a hand to shake.

The other boy took the hand somewhat hesitantly, not sure what to make of such formal actions coming from such a young person. "Arthur," he replied. Both hands were sticky from juice and tree sap but neither of the boys seemed to mind. Giving a small shake, Arthur let go and placed his hand back on his lap. "How did you find this place, Alfred?" he asked.

"What d'ya mean?"

Looking somewhat embarrassed, Arthur looked away. "Well…this place is hard for most people to find. I thought I was the only one who knew about it." He really hoped it didn't sound like he was accusing Alfred of anything.

"This is my secret place," Alfred answered brightly, but his grin dimmed when he continued, "Oh, but I guess it's not a secret anymore since you found it."

Arthur stared, frowning a little after processing the information. "But…this is _my _secret place. I found it first." At least he thought he did.

"Nuh uh," the other pouted. "_I_ found it first."

"I…don't think you did."

"Sure I did!"

"No, you didn't."

"I did!"

"You didn't!" Arthur felt himself starting to lose control over the volume of his voice. Here he was finally spending time with someone other than faeries or his books and the relationship was already falling apart. Although Arthur doubted it really existed in the first place.

Alfred jumped up onto his feet, turning towards the other boy with his hands clenched. "Yeah I _did_!" He was just as stubborn and determined to win just as much as Arthur.

"Oh yeah? Prove it!" Arthur stood as well, not wanting Alfred to intimidate him by height. To his advantage, Alfred was the shorter boy and had to tilt his head slightly upwards to meet Arthur's eyes.

Hearing Arthur's challenge, Alfred had an expression of horror and anger, his cheeks turning pink. "T-That's…That's not fair! I can't prove that," he whined.

"So I win," Arthur smiled triumphantly, crossing his arms in a content huff.

"No you don't! You can't prove that _you_ found this place first either!" Alfred accused, pointing a finger.

To Arthur's dismay, he knew Alfred was right. His brain scrambled for some way to retort back. "W-Well I'm older!"

"That doesn't mean anything!"

"Yes it does! It means everything," he argued back, frantically doing the math in his head. "I found this place when I was five!"

"So?" Alfred snorted. "I found it when I was four!" He thrust out his fingers for emphasis.

Then Arthur smiled. "So? How old are you now?"

"I'm eight!" the other said proudly.

"Well I'm ten. That means _I_ found it first," Arthur concluded happily.

Alfred's frowned, this time in confusion. "I don't get it."

"No, of course you don't," Arthur scoffed, too low for Alfred to hear. Then he explained, "Since I'm ten and you're eight that means I'm two years older than you. So if I found this place when I was five that means you were only three. When _you_ found this place, you were four and I was already six." Arthur has never felt so proud of himself before. He had always been bad at math despite his mother's homeschooling and they couldn't afford to send him to school. Then again, Arthur doubted he would get any better even if he _did_ attend school.

Meanwhile, Alfred looked devastated after Arthur's explanation. Biting his bottom lip, his watery blue eyes frowned at the ground between them and his hands were clenched so tight his knuckles were white. He looked like he was going to cry.

Suddenly, Arthur was worried. The last thing he needed was someone tattle-tailing on him for being mean. It's not like he wanted to make the boy cry. He was just telling the truth! Defending what was rightfully his!

Arthur opened his mouth to say something in reparation, but before he could utter a sound, Alfred's eyes suddenly shot back up to meet his, a new fire burning in its depths. "W-Well I'm Alfred Jones, Prince of Spades! H-Hence, your arguments are i-invalid and…um…since these are _my_ lands t-this is _my_ secret place, so there!" He puffed his chest out and stood as tall as he could without lifting onto his toes, trying to look as imposing as an eight-year-old could.

He expected Arthur to be shocked and guilty that he had dared to challenge the royal Prince of Spades. He should have surrendered, shrunk back in fear, and apologized, begging for forgiveness. As for Alfred – being the forgiving, kind, and fair Prince that he was – he would grant Arthur forgiveness and let him return home safely, maybe letting the poor boy take a few apples if he felt merciful enough.

Alfred was already beginning to smile at the possible outcome when much to his dismay, Arthur simply snorted at his previous statement, looking unimpressed. "I thought your name sounded familiar, but I never thought the young Prince would be so…" he paused, "…so _weird_. And for your information, these lands belong to your father, the King…not you."

Taken aback, Alfred hotly said, "S-same thing! And what's weird are your eyebrows! They look like fuzzy caterpillars growing on your face!" He had frantically pointed out the first thing that came to mind, but he immediately regretted it when he saw a hurt expression flash across Arthur's face.

"They're not weird!"

"They totally are!"

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

"Are not!"

Alfred tried to change the subject. "I'll only say they're not weird if you take back what you said about _me_ being weird!" he persisted. In all honesty, Alfred didn't think they were strange at all. It had only been a passing first impression when he first saw Arthur's face. Not to mention, he didn't like making fun of people. It wasn't a very heroic thing to do. The knights and kings in his storybooks never made fun of others for the way they looked.

"But you _are_ weird!" Arthur sputtered. "Y-You smile all the time and talk too much to someone you just met and you're too loud and laugh too much and even your laugh is weird and…and…and…" Arthur drifted off, trying to find more things to say but coming up short. "…and I just don't like you!" Standing there in the tense silence, Arthur felt his face heat up in embarrassment as he stared at the ground. "J-Just don't come back! This is my sport," he finished weakly. Turning away, he ran without looking back, leaving a dumbfounded Alfred behind.

Watching Arthur's back quickly disappearing into the forest, Alfred fumed. "W-Well…I don't like you either!" he shouted after him. But there was no indication the other even heard him. Stomping a foot into the ground, Alfred paced around with his eyebrows drawn into a frown and his cheeks puffed up in a pout. He had actually liked Arthur and thought him to be a new friend until their little dispute. Feeling angry and hurt at Arthur's words, the Prince swore to come again tomorrow out of spite just to make Arthur mad. He was then disappointed to realize his good mood was ruined and he no longer felt like lounging in the sun anymore. Picking one last apple off the tree, he was about to walk and cross the river back to the palace when something caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

Where Arthur had sat was a brown leather book, worn from use. When Alfred picked it up and opened it, he was surprised to see messy handwriting fill the pages. Every page was brimming with notes on plants, trees, flowers, and magical creatures. Illustrations of each were drawn alongside the writing; detailed pencil sketches of the different faerie species, unicorns, medicinal plants, and magical weapons decorated the boarders and empty spaces. Entranced by his find, Alfred hurried home, excited to continue reading.

For once, he thought, there was actually a book he _wanted_ to study.

* * *

"You're home early, dear," Arthur's mother pointed out when her son marched through the door, looking none too happy. "Did something happen?" she asked innocently.

Arthur gave his mother a look. "Why ask when you already know?" he huffed, sitting heavily onto the couch.

Smiling knowingly, she set down the basket she was weaving and moved to sit beside her son. "Can you blame me for asking?" she said, laughing softly. "Besides, how can I deny my son from meeting the Prince of Spades?"

"He made fun of my eyebrows just like everyone else!"

"I think you got along swimmingly," she encouraged. "Best attempt you've made so far."

Arthur frowned. "That doesn't make me feel any better."

His mother chuckled. "Well it should. After all, I have a feeling you'll be seeing each other again soon."

"What?!" Arthur gasped. "No! I never want to see him again!"

"Oh, you will."

"Then I won't go back," Arthur huffed stubbornly. "You'll know whenever I might see him, so I can just keep avoiding him."

His mother narrowed her eyes. "Arthur Kirkland, listen to what you're saying." He winced as her harsh tone. "I may be a Seer, but I'm also your mother. You're being utterly ridiculous and unnecessarily childish, avoiding someone – the Prince no less – just because you don't like him."

Unable to retort back, Arthur bit the inside of his cheek and looked away, the knowledge of his mother being right testing his pride. "…I still don't like him," he huffed. He knew his mother had good intentions and that his reasons for not wanting to meet Alfred again were quite pitiful, but the thought of being close to someone so…_different_ wasn't an easy thought to process. Unlike him, Alfred was untainted by labour and shielded by palace walls. He never had to worry about money or getting enough food before the winter. And one day, not too far into the future, the title of King will be passed onto him. Sadness tinged Arthur's heart and his anger mellowed out into bitterness. Glancing over at his mother, he sheepishly asked, "So I can't avoid him?"

His mother smiled, her voice gentle when she shook her head and replied, "Your lives will become more entwined than you think. Even if I help you avoid him like the plague, Fate wouldn't allow it." Arthur made a face, not understanding much of his mother's words and it made his mother smile even more. "Just give him another chance, alright?" she asked.

Grumbling under his breath, Arthur sighed a regrettable, "Fine." Standing up, he offered a wry smile to his mother. "I'll go clean up before dinner."

Watching her son walk away, she called out to him when a sudden thought appeared in her mind. "Arthur?"

"Yeah?" His head peeked back around the corner.

Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes as she warned, "Be careful. Make sure to keep your powers hidden. You know what happens when you forget to keep them in check."

"…Yes, Mother."

* * *

**Hello there!**

**Thank you for reading until the end! This is my first Hetalia fanfic so aside from being excited about writing I'm just as anxious about it. I'm a little rusty since it's been a while since I've written a fanfic so forgive me if some parts sound awkward. **

**Other than that, I hope you like what I've written so far and I would love to hear some feedback! I don't have a beta so let me know about spelling/grammar mistakes since they do tend to slip by despite my countless editing. **

**I'll try to update soon! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

That evening, Arthur was in a state of panic when he discovered that his notebook was missing. He tore through the house on a rampage and his room was a complete mess by the time he had finished looking through every corner and crack. Only when night time came and a summer rain began to fall did the boy remember he had left his precious notebook at the apple tree.

As much as he pleaded with his mother to go back outside and find it, she shook her head with a sympathetic smile. Gesturing to the weather outside, she reasoned with him and Arthur eventually gave in to temporary hopelessness.

The morning after, Arthur was restless all through breakfast and all through work. As much as he wanted to leave the fields in order to look for his notebook, he knew that even his understanding mother wouldn't approve of him skipping out on the harvest. It was how his family earned their share of food and to sacrifice it for the sake of a single notebook wouldn't be wise…even if the information in the book was rare and quite valuable.

The boy let out a pitiful groan as he looked longingly in the direction of the apple tree, mentally praying that his notebook wasn't completely ruined. All Arthur could do was slave away in the fields, anxiety uncomfortably digging a hole in the pit of his stomach as he impatiently waited for his shift to be over.

* * *

Alfred hadn't let go of the leather notebook ever since he woke up that morning and not even when the maids were dressing him. He clutched the notebook to his chest during breakfast, his morning lessons, and even when he took his horse out for a ride. His eyes were glued to the pages at any possible chance and on several occasions, the young Prince almost collided with several walls in his trance. If he ever needed to put it down, Alfred made sure it was just by his feet or no further than an arm's reach. His protectiveness of the notebook didn't go unnoticed by the palace's staff.

The young prince had stayed up way past his bedtime to finish reading the book and despite his efforts, he fell asleep with his hands still poised in mid page turn. Alfred had been excited to discover that not only did the notebook contain pages and pages of knowledge, but a small fraction of them were stories; stories a lot different than the tales Alfred were told by his parents and maids.

The knights and kings in this book didn't slay evil dragons. The two shared mutual respect for each other and coincided with one another, maintaining everlasting peace within the kindom. Unicorns weren't endangered because of illegal horn hunting. Instead, they were close to humankind and granted people rare magic for their good deeds. Dwarves didn't have to hide in the mountains. Rather, they maintained mineral trade between races because they weren't betrayed by the spread of greed and selfishness.

Despite his admiration for the notebook, Alfred had been shocked to see the name _Arthur Kirkland _written on the backside of the cover when he had hunted through the pages for the author. The older boy had seemed so unfriendly and uptight when they met. It was strange to imagine such a reserved boy having such a colourful mind. However, the thought made Alfred smile. Maybe Arthur wasn't so bad.

The sun was almost at its highest when the Queen went looking for her son to call him to lunch. She found him in the palace garden under the shade of a tree, reading the leather notebook once again. A fond smile on her face, she approached him, nodding to the guards standing under the archway in silent greeting. Alfred was so lost into the pages that he didn't even notice her presence until she sat down beside him on the stone bench and softly called out to him.

The boy jumped, despite his mother's gentle tone, and slipped away from his trance-like state. Blinking a few times, he grinned upon seeing his mother. "Oh, hi Mom! I didn't see you there," he laughed sheepishly.

"Am I interrupting?" she asked, smiling.

Alfred hastily shook his head to reassure his mother. "Not really, nope."

Giving a thoughtful hum, the Queen looked down at the notebook still open on the Prince's lap. "So what's this?"

Alfred also looked down at the notebook. "It's…something I found."

"A book?"

"Kinda," he shrugged. "It's more like a journal with a whole bunch of random stuff, but it's really cool!" His blue eyes sparkled with excitement as he told his mother about the contents. The Queen listened attentively, her gentle features lightening up in genuine curiosity as Alfred flipped through some pages with her.

"These are beautiful," she remarked. "No wonder why you've been so protective of it this morning. Where did you find it?"

Now Alfred looked slightly uncomfortable and he looked away. "In…the library."

She gave him a doubtful look. "You're not lying are you?"

"O-Of course not!"

The Queen gave him a stern look. "…Alfred, that's two now."

"…"

"Where did you find this, Alfred?" his mother asked again.

He answered hesitantly, "…In the fields…during free time…" Well, it wasn't a complete lie. After a moment of silence, Alfred let out a huff. "It's not fair. Why does it have to be you? I can't lie to you," he whined half-heartedly.

Satisfied that her son gave her a truthful answer, even if it wasn't the whole truth, the Queen laughed at her son. "I suppose it's simply because you're fortunate enough to have a Psychic for a mother." Alfred pouted, but it melted away when his mother combed through his hair with her fingers. "Come on. It's time for lunch. Let's go inside."

Alfred brightened. "Are you eating with us today?" he asked.

His mother nodded with a small smile on her face. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to do so recently."

"It's alright. You can make up for it today!" he chirped, causing the Queen to laugh.

But then Alfred grew quiet. He looked up at his mom, an uncharacteristically shy look on his face. "…And Mom?"

"Yes, Darling?"

"Do you think–…Can we actually–…Could we…maybe eat outside for lunch?"

"If you'd like," she replied with a smile. Alfred cheered and the Queen gathered her dress to stand. "I'll let the servants know and have a guard fetch your father." Nodding eagerly, Alfred turned his attention back to his book with a grin on his face, his legs swinging happily.

They'll finally be able to eat as a family again! He's always thought his father looked lonely sitting at the table by himself…well, during the rare times when the King actually comes to eat with his family. However, since the Queen hasn't been feeling well recently, her meals were brought to her room and that usually meant that Alfred had to dine alone. Hopefully, today would be different and it would finally return to the way things used to be, Alfred thought. What's more was that his mother agreed to eat outside! Being outside was supposed to be bad for the Queen, but if she agreed, that could only mean his mother was getting better and that was more than enough to make Alfred happy.

Hearing said mother call his name from the newly set up table for lunch, Alfred gathered the book into his arms and skipped over, happily sitting in the seat beside her. His eyes eagerly scanned the food laid out in front of them.

"Let's wait for your father, Alfred," the Queen chided upon seeing her son's hungry look and instead, raised the teapot in her hands. "Tea?"

But Alfred had no say in the matter as his mother poured some into his cup without waiting for his answer. Then again, she probably already knew what he was going to say the moment she asked and simply chose to gracefully ignore it.

Alfred let out a groan as he stared into the contents of his cup, the leafy smell of his tea already making his nose wrinkle up in protest. "I hate tea," he lowly grumbled.

The Queen laughed. "I know. But you'll learn to like it."

With the sound of footsteps approaching, the two royals looked up expectantly (and somewhat nervously on Alfred's part) only to see the Jack of Spades returning with the guard the Queen had sent and no King in sight. Although Alfred was slightly disappointed, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Things had always been awkward between Alfred and the King. They rarely had the chance to spend time in each other's company and even on the rare occasions when the King came for dinner there was only the sound of cutlery and awkward silence between them. Alfred had no idea how to act around his father, but naturally he wanted to impress him with his accomplishments. However, whenever Alfred faced the King, who had such a frigid, regal air, his confidence would magically disappear and Alfred would either shyly present himself to his father or give up entirely.

The Queen looked over at the Jack and he replied with a small, apologetic smile. "The King–,"

"–Had some urgent business to attend to?" the Queen finished, a wry smile upon her lips. Her baby blue eyes contained just a tinge of sadness.

Letting out a soft laugh, the Jack nodded and walked towards her with a letter in his hand. "He told me to give you this," he said, handing over the parchment.

The Queen took the letter as though it would break upon pressured contact and thanked the Jack. Opening it, she mumbled under her breath, "So he has the time to write a letter yet he can't even drop by to see his family before he leaves?"

"I'm truly sorry, your Majesty."

She shook her head. "Oh Yao, you don't have to apologize for something you didn't do."

Alfred couldn't help smiling to himself upon hearing his mother's words. It brought him back to yesterday's incident and it reminded the Prince of the face he got in response from the other boy. It also reminded Alfred that he still had to return the notebook, currently resting on his lap, to its rightful owner.

"Do you find something funny, your Highness?"

Alfred looked up to see the Jack giving him a criticizing look; a look that showed that Yao Wang was anything but amused at the moment. But Alfred simply grinned and replied, "Nope. Not really." Yao snorted, and Alfred tilted his head to the side, staring at the Jack's face as if judging him. "You know, Yao, maybe you should find something funny to laugh at because you don't smile much, do you?"

The Jack sputtered, "I-I beg your pardon?"

Alfred nodded his head with a straight face, as if honestly feeling concerned for the poor, humourless Jack. "Yeah, I mean, smiling is supposed to make you happier and feeling happy lets you live longer!"

"And who says I'm not happy?" Yao demanded.

"Well that frown, first of all," Alfred answered, pointing to the Jack's face. Yao only scowled harder. "And second of all, the fact that you've never really laughed or smiled before!"

"I-I've smiled before!" the Jack tried to defend himself.

"How come I've never seen it?"

"You don't need to," he replied sternly, frowning again.

Alfred pretended to pout. "Aw c'mon, Yao! You'll get wrinkles if you frown so much!"

Yao Wang was the Jack of Spades and basically part of the royal family. A loyal subject as well a good friend to the King, Yao practically raised Alfred. With his watchful eyes and guidance, he was the Prince's babysitter more often than not due to the King and Queen's busy schedules. The good that came out of it was that it made the two particularly close, but that also meant, much to the Jack's displeasure, that Alfred could bicker and tease him to no end despite the large age difference.

Yao sputtered some more, the tips of his ears turning red. He opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by the Queens sudden violent coughing, cutting the Jack off as well as shattering the good mood around her.

"Your Majesty!" Yao called out in panic, running to her side. The Queen was holding a hand over her mouth and her face was scrunched together in pain. However, she was waving with her other hand in attempts to reassure the Jack that it was nothing. Yao and Alfred could do nothing but wait, the Queen's hacking coughs shaking their hearts as if it was a terrifying storm.

When her coughing subsided, her voiced sounded strained when she spoke again. "Ah, I apologise for that about that." She cleared her throat and sipped some tea, sighing as she felt her throat relax.

"Are you okay now, Mom?"

The Queen turned to her son and smiled at his concern. "You don't have to make such a face, darling," she soothed, using a hand to gently cup his cheek. "I'm alright now, worry not."

Yao frowned, not convinced. "Wasn't it advised that you stay indoors as much as possible, your Majesty? It's not wise to dine outside so soon. You're condition has only recovered so much."

Dropping her hand from her mouth, she smiled at the Jack. "Well you see, Alfred wanted to have lunch outside today and I thought that since the weather was so lovely, it would be difficult to turn him down."

Yao shot Alfred a look, causing the Prince to shrink back into his chair. "So once again, the Prince is responsible for troubling you." Alfred looked away, feeling guilty.

However the Queen defended him. "It's really alright, Yao. It's not Alfred's fault. I suppose I should just be a bit more wary of my condition. I just overestimated myself, that's all."

"But he still holds fault if he's the one who suggested it! He needs to have a sense of discipline and responsibility or else he'll never understand the consequences of his actions," Yao insisted.

The Queen glanced over at her son who was staring hard at the book in his lap, looking as if he was trying not to cry. She sighed, resigning. "We can talk about this at a more appropriate time," she said, addressing the Jack. When Yao opened his mouth to protest, he was cut short by the look the Queen shot at him.

Instead, she turned her attention to the letter from the King on her lap. Her smile looked strained as she looked up at Yao moments later. "Thank you for taking the time to deliver this personally, Yao. As much as I'd like you to stay for tea, I suppose you should hurry back before the King comes looking for you." As Yao bowed in parting, she continued to say, "Tell my husband I'll speak to him tonight in regards to his letter."

A moment of silence passed between the Queen and Jack as their eyes met. "As you wish," Yao said after a split second of hesitation. "Good day, your Majesty. Alfred." He gave each a small nod before he turned and left.

"It's my fault, isn't it?" Alfred asked miserably once Yao's footsteps could no longer be heard. He looked up at his mother with teary eyes filled with guilt.

The Queen shook her head, giving her son a reassuring smile. "Don't take what Yao said to heart, Alfred. No one's to blame."

Alfred gave her an unconvinced look, but said nothing.

His mother gave a little sigh, changing the topic. "Well, since your father won't be able to join us for lunch, we'll just have to enjoy it without him. Eat up so you can prepare for your afternoon lessons."

Alfred gave his head a little nod, feeling slightly happier once the option to eat opened up. After a few moments of silence, he asked, "So what was in Father's letter?"

"Nothing you need to worry about, Alfred," the Queen reassured. If only he knew better, he would've heard how her words were clipped and tight. However Alfred just nodded at his mother's answer, thinking nothing more of it. He was too busy thinking about Yao's words to notice the sorrowful look his mother was giving him as he ate.

* * *

After Arthur was done with the daily harvest, he wasted no time getting to the apple tree. No longer caring about the possibility of seeing Alfred again, the farm boy hurried along, his anxious heart beating wildly in his chest for the safety of his notebook. Reaching the tree, his heart sank heavily when he noticed that his precious notebook wasn't where he remembered it to be and that only his pencil, half-buried in the dirt from the rain, remained. Practically in distress, Arthur searched the area with intense focus, sweat beading on his forehead from sheer panic and fear.

After several long minutes of seeking the book out of every possible hiding place, Arthur stood dumbfounded beside the stream, staring into its moving water feeling empty and lost. What on earth could have happened to it? Even with the storm, it couldn't have travelled far. Arthur secretly hoped some local faeries had found it, recognized it, and took it into shelter, but he would've gotten a notice by now and none came. It couldn't have simply just got up and walked away…

…Wait.

Realization suddenly dawned on the boy as he recognized just how likely it was that the book _had_ moved. Not on its own accord, of course, but by the hands of someone else; a certain Prince that had left after Arthur did.

The rustling of leaves and shrubbery across the river broke through his thoughts and movement caught his eyes. Lifting his head, he met sky-blue eyes peering curiously at him from among the greenery, albeit a little shy.

Alfred stepped out into the clearing and approached the edge of the river, clutching Arthur's missing notebook to his chest. The Prince gave the other a little smile. "These are really good, you know?" He looked down at the notebook fondly. "I hope you don't mind that I brought it back home with me yesterday to read."

Under normal circumstances, Arthur would've been overjoyed at the praise, but instead, he felt like his privacy had been violated. No one had been allowed to touch his notebook let alone read its contents. "So _you_ took my book? And you read it too?!"

Alfred had a panicked look on his face after seeing how mad Arthur was. "I-I didn't know it was yours! I only realized after I started looking through it!"

"Then why didn't you give it back after you realized?!"

"Because it was raining last night and I don't know even know where you live!"

Silence settled in and Arthur bit back a response he didn't even have. Although he hated losing arguments, he would not be made a fool of a second time. So he kept quiet and tried to regain his wit and patience as he stared down the Prince, however his hands remained tightly clenched by his sides. "F-Fine…you win this time. Now give it back to me already." Arthur held out a hand.

Alfred nodded and began to cross the river with a somewhat hesitant look on his face, as if he was debating whether or not to actually return the notebook. Seeing his expression made Arthur worry that Alfred might change his mind, so he didn't continue his accusations and stepped back to let the Prince have some space. But Arthur didn't hesitate to confront him the moment Alfred was on dry land. "Well? Hand it over," he said, holding his hand out for the book.

Alfred glanced down at the book he was holding with a reluctant look on his face. Looking back up at Arthur, he gave a little sigh and a little before handing it over. "Okay. Here ya go."

Arthur blinked and took back his book, a little stunned at Alfred's lack of resistance. "Um, well…I…guess I should be thankful you took this with you then…" Arthur mumbled while staring at the book. He could feel his grudge against the Prince start to fade, although somewhat reluctantly. The boy almost felt a twinge of guilt for the resentful feelings he previously had towards Alfred. When he glanced up and saw the Prince's expectant, blue eyes and small, patient smile, Arthur blushed and stubbornly looked away, trying to find something to look at other than the younger boy's eyes. "B-But I won't say t-thank you since I didn't ask you to bring it home with you! I-It's really your fault f-for taking it without my permission…even…even if you did…keep…it…dry…S-So don't expect me to–!"

Arthur cut himself off, seeing how Alfred had burst out into laughter. The farm boy's blush only deepened in colour. "W-What's so funny?!" he demanded hotly.

Alfred tried to calm his giggles, but the moment he saw Arthur's face he lost control again. The older boy's face was blotched from his blush and his cheeks were slightly puffed up in a pout. His thick eyebrows were drawn down in a frown and it accented the confusion and anger in his glowing, green eyes.

After several attempts to get the laughing Prince to answer his question but to no avail, Arthur gave up. "Ugh, never mind then," he huffed angrily. "You can laugh until your breathing stops for all I care. I'm leaving!" True to his word, Arthur turned on his heels to leave, feeling embarrassed and quite confused. He certainly didn't find anything comical about what he said so he couldn't understand what was making Alfred laugh like a madman.

"No! Wait!" Alfred cried out, his little body still trembling from spurts of giggles. "Don't go!" He ran up to Arthur, an apologetic grin on his face. "I'm sorry for laughing like that, but seriously! I've never seen anyone have so much trouble saying thank you before! And it was so funny!"

Arthur sniffed, not amused. "Well I'm glad I was able to humour the Prince of Spades," he said sarcastically, "but now, if you would excuse me, I'll leave you to continue your laughing fit in peace." He began to march away, still slightly wounded, when he felt a small hand grab his wrist. Arthur turned instinctively, only to see Alfred's eyes, wide and pleading.

"No, please don't go!" he asked. "Won't you stay?"

Arthur frowned, confused. "Why should I?"

"Because I want you to stay!" When Arthur's expression didn't change, Alfred looked away bashfully, his voice lowering. "It's just that…I didn't have a chance to finish reading your book so I was wondering…if you could…maybe read it to me?" Seeing Arthur's startled look, Alfred quickly added, "Or just let lend it to me for a little while longer so I can finish reading it?"

Arthur stared at the Prince with a mix of emotions. Although he was still upset at the fact that Alfred had read the contents of his notebook, the feeling was pitiful compared to the new feeling of pride and happiness that was budding in his chest. Seeing Alfred's hopeful look only made Arthur's resolve to continue disliking the Prince crumble even more than it already has and furthermore, Arthur was very well aware of the fact that Alfred gave his wrist a little pleading squeeze as the silence continued.

So Arthur let out a little sigh before giving his response, looking away in embarrassment. "No, there's…there's no need for you to take it back to the palace again." When he looked up into Alfred's clear blue eyes and saw fear in its depths, Arthur surprised himself when he felt himself smile; a small, timid smile, but a genuine one nonetheless. "I…I'd be happy to read it to you, if you'd like." Witnessing Alfred's look of surprise followed by a blinding expression of pure joy, Arthur blushed and sputtered out, "B-But it's not f-for your sake! I just don't want you taking it again in case you ruin it, okay?!"

But Alfred didn't make any indication that he heard the older boy's explanation for he seemed to be too busy smiling his heart out. Arthur hadn't expected such an overjoyed reaction and was quite baffled. What dumbfounded him even more was when Alfred dashed forward to hug him like they've been best friends for months chanting, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" It certainly wasn't a reaction you would expect from a person you've hardly known for two days, but there Alfred was hugging the breath out of him.

Before Arthur could respond, Alfred let go and skipped over to the base of the apple tree. "Let's sit over here! It has the best shady spot and it's the easiest place to grab apples, you know, in case we get hungry. Oh! And after we finish reading, could you explain more about the White-Scaled Dragon? The drawing was really cool, but I didn't really understand some of the things you wrote about it. And it was really hard to read some parts of the book because you know Arthur, your handwriting's not the neatest, but that's okay! Mine isn't neat either according to my teachers so we can be messy handwriting buddies! Oh, oh! Then there are the pages about _magic _and those looked _really_ awesome!"

Alfred continued to rant on and on and on and Arthur couldn't decide if the Prince was talking to him or to himself. Arthur felt himself smile, wider this time, and laughter bubble from his stomach. Having such rowdy company would take some getting used to, but Arthur felt himself beginning to enjoy the Prince's active personality despite claiming to only prefer the company of quiet woodland creatures and peaceful faeries.

He cleared his throat and tried to suppress his excited grin as he called out to the ranting Prince. "Just sit your damn arse down so we can start already!"

The Prince finally stopped his babbling and turned to Arthur, giggling, "Ooh, Arthur said a bad word!"

"Oh hush, Alfred. That's not nearly as bad of a word compared to some others," Arthur smirked, approaching Alfred.

At that, Alfred's eyes grew comically wide. "Really? There's worse?!"

"Of course there is."

"Tell me!"

"No."

Alfred pouted. "Why not?!"

"Well I wouldn't want the Prince of Spades to go around swearing because of me. Besides, you'll probably learn one day or another without my help."

"Aw c'mon!" The Prince puffed his cheeks out and sat down in a huff, crossing his arms dramatically.

Seeing such over-exaggerated behavior only a boy Alfred's age could pull off, Arthur did the last thing he thought he would ever do with the Prince: laugh. Before he could stop himself, Arthur gave a little snort which soon turned into giggles and laughter. He wasn't used to laughing so freely with anyone other than his mother, so feeling slightly self-conscious, Arthur used a hand to cover his grin as he laughed until it subsided. Sitting down beside the Prince, Arthur cleared his throat and allowed a small smile to remain as he asked Alfred which page he wanted to continue from.

But Alfred was still hearing Arthur's laughter echoing inside his head with a somewhat half-dazed, half-surprised look on his face. It was such a warm, natural sound and Alfred found himself wanting to hear more of it. Alfred had thought Arthur didn't know _how_ to smile until a few moments ago, but now that the Prince knew how good the other looked with one, he was determined to see it again.

"You should laugh more often," Alfred said before he had the chance to stop himself.

Arthur looked startled at the sudden comment, cutting himself off from whatever he had been saying. "W-What?"

Alfred felt himself blush, shocked that those words managed to slip from his brain and out of his mouth. But now that it was out, the Prince stammered to continue. "Y-You have a nice smile!" he blurted. "So I was just thinking that you should smile more!" The Prince thought back to earlier that afternoon when he said those similar words to Yao. Alfred found it strange how differently he felt saying those words to Arthur and only later did he realize it was because he genuinely meant it.

Arthur's vivid green eyes were wide as they looked into Alfred's azure ones, the Prince's blatant honesty making the silence turn awkward. Alfred watched as Arthur's cheeks quickly coloured and as he began to sputter incoherent words in attempts to respond.

Unable to form proper words, Arthur looked away to burn a hole into his book, his fingers fidgeting along the edge of the cover. "A-Are you an idiot or something? You don't just suddenly say that to someone out of nowhere! Especially to someone you've only just met."

"We met yesterday though," Alfred pointed out.

"B-But still! It's…improper…" Arthur continued to fidget with the pages, his cheeks a brilliant pink.

Although Alfred still felt slightly embarrassed at his little slip, he remained stubborn and stared at Arthur's profile, trying to get the other to look into his eyes so he knew he wasn't lying. "Well I'm not taking it back."

Indeed, Arthur met his eyes but he was alarmed to see such determination illuminating from the Prince in staying true to his word. The boy was too honest for his own good! But as much as Arthur hated to admit it…he was happy, albeit a little embarrassed and put on the spot by the sudden compliment.

Arthur turned back to the open book on his lap, determined to keep his cool. "You…really are an idiot," he said, lacking any bite. It almost sounded like he was saying it fondly, but of course neither of the boys knew any better.

Alfred noticed that the tips of Arthur's ears had turned red so he said nothing more about the subject. However, he also noticed, no matter how much Arthur was trying to hide it, that Arthur was smiling once again.

Smiling contently, Alfred shuffled closer to the other boy and pointed out the page he had left off on. After Arthur gave the Prince an earful for dog-earring the page, the two read away the remainder of the afternoon, adjusting comfortably to each other's company.

* * *

**Oh wow, I did not expect this much support after one chapter, but needless to say I'm overjoyed! You guys are fantastic, thank you so much!**

**I was hoping I'd get this chapter done within a week, but school and life can be quite the bother. and this chapter turned out much longer than I had planned. But hopefully, I can keep this up! **

**Again, let me know if there are any mistakes! Thank you for reading and to those who reviewed! **


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